


into your heart i'll beat again

by orphan_account



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:02:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He asks about her schooling, her plans for the future, her family and friends. He recognized her as a friend of Nick’s as well as Harry’s from the moment he walked in and saw her sat here, but it still catches him off guard when she mentions his name. Suddenly his filter is shattering into a million tiny pieces.</i>
</p><p>(or: No one knows that Louis is dating Nick and Harry keeps trying to set Louis up on dates.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	into your heart i'll beat again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwanna_seeyou_undoit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwanna_seeyou_undoit/gifts).



> thank you so much everyone for your kind words. i wasn't exactly proud of this when i finished it but i'm so grateful that people are enjoying it. i'm especially grateful that my recipient liked it!
> 
> title from 'crash into me' by dave matthews band because i'm on a weird kick at the mo'.

Louis has no idea why saying “no” to Harry has always been the most difficult task for him to accomplish. It’s not that he’s convincing, really, or at all. He tends to talk himself into circles most of the time, and rarely ever makes sense. It’s more so the puppy dog eyes and the way he whines until Louis wants to cut his own ears off.

“It’s for your own good, you know,” Harry says, speaking in the way that Louis knows is out of genuine concern but it really just sounds condescending. “So you can finally stop moping over Eleanor.”

It’s a bit unfair, really. It’s a bit unfair that Harry gets to decide what the proper time frame for moping is, when it’s not his relationship and Harry’s never even had a proper relationship. Not really. It’s mainly unfair because Louis hasn’t been moping, not since that first week, not in the slightest. He goes out more nights than not, has a bloody good time, and that’s definitely not moping. Harry seems to see it more as a cry for help, though, rather than a sign of improvement – Harry sees it as moping.

This would really be the perfect opportunity for Louis to tell him about Nick. Harry isn’t going to let him get out of this without a solid excuse, and “I don’t want to” isn’t going to cut it. He could tell Harry right now that he’s been seeing Nick for the past few months and they’re really happy, that Harry was right all along. But that would mean two things – it would mean admitting to Harry that he was _right_ , which is not something he likes to do because Harry will never let it die, and it would mean potentially mucking up this amazing thing that he and Nick have going right now. They’re so happy together, so great, but it’s still so new. He’s scared that if he lets anyone else into their bubble it will all fall apart.

There’s also the bit that it’s not just himself he has to take into consideration. He also needs to consider Harry’s big mouth that he can never seem to keep _shut_ , not doing anything maliciously but not being particularly careful not to fuck anything up, either. As soon as he tells Harry, it’s as good as telling the rest of the band and the next thing he knows, the entire world knows he’s dating Nick Grimshaw. It’s not that he’s ashamed of Nick, because he isn’t, he’s so unbelievably proud. It’s that along with dating Nick comes the insistence that he’s gay, invalidating his sexuality and therefore invalidating his previous relationship which, despite how crazy he is about Nick, is a wound that’s still fairly fresh.

“I’d really rather not, Haz,” He tries for instead, hoping that Harry may take pity on him and just let it go. He doesn’t want to get into it, not today, he’ll tell everybody everything another time. The right time. “I just don’t want to date right now, okay?”

“ _You_ don’t want to date?” Harry says, snickering and raising a condescending eyebrow. There’s no genuine concern to be found in his tone this time ‘round, it’s all condescension. He’s so mean. “Louis ‘must be in a relationship at all times’ Tomlinson doesn’t want to date? Right.”

And it’s not a lie – not really. He doesn’t want to date, not anyone but Nick, and he and Nick aren’t even ‘dating’. They don’t really go out, it’s the fear of being spotted, and they both prefer a night in anyway. He supposes he does have that need, somewhere deep down, to always be in a relationship. It’s just what he prefers. He and Nick skipped past the dating bit of their relationship and straight into the lazy lie-ins with takeaway in front of the telly. It’s so ideal, for the both of them, but so fragile and he doesn’t want to let anyone into it. Harry will try to give him some sort of speech – some sort of talk about his ‘intentions’ – threaten to kill him if he hurts Nick though he knows Harry would never hurt a fly. It would be seen as a rebound by not just Harry but all of the public eye and he doesn’t want that.

“I don’t always need to be in a relationship,” Louis tries to argue anyway. It’s a weak argument, a feeble attempt, because he knows it’s almost entirely untrue. At least he tried. “Don’t I deserve a break between one relationship and the next?”

I’m not telling you to be in a relationship. It’s just a date,” Harry says, and it’s getting rather irritating, even more irritating than Harry normally is. He’s used to Harry’s nagging but it’s at the expense of others, usually, or at least about something that Louis knows how to talk his way out of. “I’m just trying to be a good best mate, aren’t I? Get you back on the right track and out of your funk.”

He hates that – he hates being told he’s in a funk when he knows he’s not, but he knows Harry has his best interests in mind even if he’s got a shit way of going about it.

“I’m not in a _funk_ ,” Louis whines, rather pathetically. He’s not, he’s really not, but he can’t bring himself to tell Harry about the reason why. That’s a bit of a funk itself. “Who says you’re my best mate anyway?”

“I’m not your best mate?” Harry asks.

“Liam would never do this to me.” Louis notes, and then adds, “Reckon Niall wouldn’t, either.”

Harry pouts and Louis’ resolve immediately crumbles and disappears.

*

He finds himself sat across the table from some girl whose name he can’t remember at the moment – Sarah or Sabrina or something similar – in some posh restaurant in some part of London where he rarely ever finds himself, somewhere he’d normally never be caught dead. The restaurant reeks of a Harry Styles set-up but he’s grateful that it’s at least a bit private, that no one would think to look for him here.

The girl is breathtakingly beautiful and pleasant enough to talk to, but she’s not exactly who he wants to be out with. He lets his mind wander to the thought of sitting here at this table with Nick, instead. The two of them holding hands across the table and giggling at each other like there’s no one else in the world, because that’s how Nick makes him feel most of the time. Just the two of them in their little bubble and nothing can touch them – that’s what he wants. He pushes it to the back of his mind, though, knows it’s not the time to go public with this quite yet. They need to enjoy the peace for a while longer before the scrutiny of the public eye threatens to tear them apart.

He sets his focus back on the girl, whose name he thinks might be Shannon – he wishes he wasn’t too embarrassed to ask her, too afraid that she’d be humiliated that he’s forgotten. He needs to make a point to start paying more attention to what people say to him, instead of in one ear and out the other because he’s uncomfortable.

He asks about her schooling, her plans for the future, her family and friends. He recognized her as a friend of Nick’s as well as Harry’s from the moment he walked in and saw her sat here, but it still catches him off guard when she mentions his name. Suddenly his filter is shattering into a million tiny pieces.

“Would you mind not telling him about this?” He finds himself asking, ignoring the fact that it makes him seem like a complete nutter. He knows that Nick hasn’t told anyone that they’re together, because Nick respects his wishes so much, to a point that it makes Louis’ chest hurt sometimes. He knows that this girl has no idea exactly why Nick can’t know that they’ve been out on a date, but he finds himself not caring. He’ll do anything to stop Nick from finding out about this, even if for the rest of her life this girl only knows Louis as some odd ball she went on a shit date with once. “Just – if you don’t mind.”

“Um, sure.” She replies, a furrow in her brow like she’s unbearably confused but not looking like she’s going to prod it. She probably feels like it’s something that she doesn’t want to know about, which may be true, but more than anything _he_ doesn’t want her to know. “Sure. I won’t tell him.”

“Thanks.” Louis replies, taking an uncomfortable sip from his drink. They fall into a silence and it’s not a comfortable one, not at all like the ones he’s used to. Not like the ones he gets when he’s with Nick. His guilt hits him like a freight train. He’s thinking so fondly of Nick while on a date with someone else and he knows that he shouldn’t be here. He should be in his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about what a shit boyfriend he is. He should be at Harry’s, telling him everything and finally letting this whole thing be free. He should be at Nick’s, trying his best to make up for everything, for keeping him a secret even though Nick is the one part of his life of which he’s most proud.

They decide to tap out after a shared plate of bruschetta and a drink each, acknowledging that there’s just no connection here. Louis is glad that she agreed because he was starting to feel more uncomfortable than he’d ever felt before. Not because she was unpleasant, because if the situation were any different he’s sure they’d make a great match, but he can’t get Nick out of his mind. He’s used to that.

He walks her to her car, and leaves her with a kiss on his cheek, before walking across the carpark and sliding into his own. Taking a deep breath in and out again, shutting his eyes briefly, he’s so grateful that this night has finally ended. He’ll never forgive Harry for talking him into this, never forgive himself for allowing himself to be talked into it in the first place.

*

He doesn’t know what makes him do it. He knows what he needs to do, what he should do if he’s a person with any conscience whatsoever. He needs to go home to his own bed, think about what he’s done and wash away the entire awful night before he even thinks about anything else.

He finds himself sending a text to Nick instead, asking if he can come over. He doesn’t even bother to wait for a reply before tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat and pulling out into the street.

It’s not until he’s knocked on Nick’s front door 5, 10, maybe 15 times that it hits him just how awful he’s being. He was too overwhelmed with his need to see Nick, to be held by him and be kissed by him. He didn’t even bother to think about what day it is or what time it is, for that matter. Past 11 on a Thursday night and Nick’s surely in bed by now. He’s entirely aware of Nick’s rule regarding coming ‘round past 10 on a weeknight, but was too careless to pay it any mind.

When Nick swings the front door open, though, sleepy soft and grinning around a _hiya, darling_ , Louis forgets everything. He forgets his guilt and is only focused on the beautiful man standing before him, grinning at him despite the fact that it’s way past his real life professional bedtime and must be so tired.

Louis launches himself forward, then, wrapping his arms around Nick’s middle and feeling a flood of relief when Nick does the same. He breathes him in, feeling so at home, sighing out a “Hey.”

“You feeling okay?” Nick asks, tilting Louis’ head up so they meet eyes, sweeping his hair out of his eyes and pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth. “Any particular reason you felt the need to disrupt my sleep?”

“I’m sorry.” Louis breathes, that pang of guilt hitting him again, but only for a moment before he notices Nick’s bright and beautiful smile directed at him. “I’m okay, just had a rough day and wanted to sleep here with you. I hope that’s all right.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome.” Nick says, pulling Louis through the threshold with a gentle hand on his waist, shutting and locking the door behind them.

Louis can only stand there, shoulders slumped, feeling so awful about himself. Feeling so terrible about everything. He shouldn’t be here right now, pretending like nothing’s happened, not after what he’s done. He’s where he wants to be but he doesn’t deserve it – going straight from a date with someone else to sleep with his boyfriend in his bed.

It’s what he wants but it’s not what he deserves. He shouldn’t be here.

“Do you want to talk about anything, love?” Nick asks, pulling Louis from his trance, gentle hands on either side of Louis’ face. His tone and the expression on his face are both so concerned, so unbelievably caring, and Louis doesn’t deserve it. He thinks about coming clean. His heart is telling him to tell Nick what he’s done and apologize and promise to never do it again, but instead he shakes his head. He’s so tired all of a sudden, and this conversation isn’t one that can be had quickly. He just wants to go to bed, and he knows that Nick’s tired. “Let’s get to bed, then, yeah?”

With a nod, Louis lets himself be dragged along. He lets himself be stripped down to his pants and pulled into bed and into Nick’s arms. He tries to ignore the feeling in his chest, the almost unbearable tightness, when Nick wraps his arms tight around Louis’ torso and presses a kiss to the back of Louis’ neck. “Good night, Lou.”

“Good night.” Louis responds, tangling his fingers with Nick’s on his tummy, and struggles to fall asleep long after Nick’s soft snores fill the air.

*

He wakes to lips on his neck and a gentle hand on his lower belly, playing with the soft hairs there. He leans into it, basks in the attention, then spares a glance at the clock on the bedside table and groans. It’s not even 5 am and he’s angry at the thought that anyone has to be up at this hour. He doesn’t know how Nick does it every bleeding morning.

He turns around in Nick’s arms anyway, smiling sleepily and running his fingers through his already perfectly-coiffed hair just out of spite for making him be awake so early.

“You absolute dickhead.” Nick whines, nipping at the tip of Louis’ nose and tickling at his sides. The cackles that Louis lets out as he tries to wiggle free are ones that he’d normally be embarrassed of, if he were here with anyone else. There’s just something about Nick, though, that makes him feel so at ease.

He manages to free himself and get Nick’s wrists pinned at his sides, straddling his thigh. He’s certain that Nick is letting him win, he must be, because Nick’s stronger than him by a long shot. He’s hard against Nick’s hip, and he rolls his hips down into it. He knows it won’t get him anywhere – he never gets anything once Nick is already dressed for the day, but it's certainly worth a shot. He grinds down harder, and he feels when Nick almost gives in before he stops himself, rolling them over again.

“I cooked.” Nick says, leaning over Louis’ body, and Louis rolls his eyes. How Nick manages _anything_ so early is beyond him. “I thought his majesty might like to join me for breakfast.”

“His majesty doesn’t.” Louis jokes, pulling Nick’s body down on top of his. If he’s going to be up, he might as well get some food out of it, but he’s still determined to not have to be up. “His majesty wants to get off. His majesty wants you to stay in bed today.”

He knows it’s a useless sentiment. He knows Nick is anal about never missing work unless it’s to do something else that’s for week, at least unless he’s given the BBC at least a week’s notice so they can line up someone to fill his spot. It’s too late, now, his show starts in less than 2 hours and that’s not time enough for Nick to call Scott Mills and beg – he wouldn’t do it anyway. Louis’ mind goes back to the last time he tried to convince Nick to stay home from work, and it was something he actually really needed, but he went into work anyway while he was sick as a dog.

“Can’t do that, love. When I get back, yeah?” Nick says, smiling down at Louis then connecting their lips, kissing him so thoroughly that Louis’ sure his knees wouldn’t give out if he weren’t lying down. He really does want to stay like this all day, but he knows how important Nick’s work is to him, and he ought to respect that. He supposes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have breakfast with me?”

“Suppose that would be okay.” Louis says, shrugging. He’d really love to stay in bed, but if the only way he gets to spend some extra time with Nick is to eat breakfast with him, then he might as well. He’s a bit hungry anyway, now that he’s awake and aware of his body. “I hope you didn’t burn it.”

“It’s just eggs and toast.” Nick says, slightly defensively, rolling his eyes. He’s not really that shit of a cook but Louis likes to tease him about it anyway, because of the one time that he nearly set fire to his flat cooking a lasagna. “I know how to make eggs and toast.”

“All right, love. Whatever you say.” Louis says, grinning, and scrambling out of bed to jump on Nick’s back for a ride to the kitchen.

*

It feels like ages Louis’ spent waiting for Nick to get home – and he tries to ignore the fact that he can so easily think of Nick’s flat as home, even though he doesn’t live here – and it’s only 8.

He’d tried desperately to sleep until Nick came back, but he’s not very good at falling _back_ asleep. The sleeping bit he’s good at, but once he’s up and at ‘em, you can’t get him back to sleep without being hit over the head.

As he flops down on the sofa in front of the TV, he curses Nick for even allowing him to be up so early, let alone forcing it. As much as he loves seeing Nick in the mornings, at all hours of the day and for as long as possible, he doesn’t fancy sitting at Nick’s flat in the depressing silence with no company but Pig.

She’s great company, he just wishes she knew how to talk.

He wishes that Nick would have just stayed home today. It’s worse today than it is usually, when Nick goes to work and leaves Louis alone, because Louis has so much making up to do. He wants to spend all day in bed with Nick, making himself forget what he’s done and making Nick so happy that he doesn’t have the time to be suspicious. Nick, mostly unfortunately but in this case very fortunate, isn’t terribly great at picking up on cues.

He’s halfway through an episode of Come Dine with Me when his phone starts ringing, and Harry’s name pops up on the screen. He wants to throw his phone straight across the room, not answer it, because all of this is Harry’s stupid fault anyway. He answers it, instead.

“Don’t ask me how the date went.” Louis says as soon as he slides to call on, bypassing anything resembling an actual hello, because Harry is nothing if not unbelievably predictable and Louis’ not stupid.

“How did the date go?” Harry asks, ever the menace, and Louis hates him. Louis wants to kill him.

 “It was rubbish.” Louis grumbles, because it was rubbish and it was a stupid question because Harry _knows._ “You know it was rubbish because I told you I didn’t want to go and you made me go anyway.”

“I hardly made you go.” Harry says, quietly. Louis supposes it’s true, technically. No one was holding a gun to his head and forcing him into that restaurant last night, but it certainly felt like it. Harry knows how horrible Louis is at not giving into little annoyances, and he knows how Louis always has to follow through on things that he agrees to. What Harry did was as good as forcing him. “It couldn’t have been rubbish – she’s just your type, looks like Eleanor.”

“She does not look like Eleanor.” Louis counters, though now that Harry mentions it, there is a striking resemblance there. But that doesn’t make her Louis’ type – Louis doesn’t even have a type. “What even makes you think that I’d want to date a girl who looks like my ex when we’ve just broken up?”

“Sam’s a lovely girl, didn’t figure anything else mattered.” Harry says, and that’s right, her name is _Sam_. He would have never remembered that in a million years. She looks much more like a Sabrina. Harry really is shit at this matchmaking thing – Louis realized it a long time ago but it’s much more apparent now when Harry thinks _lovely girl_ is the only thing that matters. Eleanor was the exception to the rule of Harry being absolutely rubbish at set-ups, after the dozens of girls he’d tried to set Louis up with before he finally got it right.

“Other things matter.” Louis says, even though it’s obvious. Other things are important, such as compatibility and whether or not both parties want to be on the date. “Anyway, don’t I deserve to not date immediately after the end of a 4-year relationship?”

“Of course you do.” Harry says, sounding like he’s giving in but only slightly. Just barely. “But I can tell you’re just avoiding something. I know you, Lou.”

For maybe the first time in their friendship, Harry is dead wrong. Sometimes Louis feels like Harry knows him better than he even knows himself, but this time is different. The reason Louis doesn’t want to date isn’t because he’s avoiding something – it’s so off the mark. He’s so happy and he wishes he could just tell Harry, get it over with, and let Harry be happy _with_ him. It’s all gone to hell.

“I appreciate your help, Haz.” Louis says, because no matter how annoying Harry is being about it, he really does have Louis’ best interests at heart. He’s the most incredible friend, even when he’s being an absolute twat and making Louis wish that he could disappear. “But I’m all right for now. When I’m ready to be set up, you’ll be the first to know. Okay?”

“I just want you to be happy.” Harry says, heaving a dramatic sigh similar to the one he recognizes of his mum, and Louis could kill him right now. “I don’t want you to keep moping about if I can help.”

“For the last time, I’m not _moping_.” Louis says. “I love you for caring about me but I’m not moping.”

“But –” Harry starts, and Louis is not in the mood to hear it.

“So, Harold.” Louis interrupts, demanding this conversation ends right this minute. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need it. Please don’t set me up on more dates because I don’t want to go on them.”

“If you’re sure.” Harry says, sounding unsure, and Louis is amazed that Harry feels he has room to claim anyone else is moping when he is _so obviously_ the only one who’s moping right now.

“I’m sure. I’ll talk to you later, all right?” Louis says and immediately hangs up, because this would go on forever if Harry had his way. All Louis wants to do is wait for Nick to get home. In peace, preferably.

*

Normally Louis isn’t a worrier. He always tries as hard as he can to not care too much – it helps him. He told himself that he’d wait until Nick’s show was over for an hour before he’d send a text, but it’s been a bit under two and he still hasn’t heard anything.

He was promised an orgasm that he still hasn’t gotten, which is rude.

He hates feeling like a clinger. He’s not needy, but he just wants to hang out with today and he feels like he’s been gone for _ages._ He refuses to send a text, though. He’s not going to do it.

He opens Instagram instead, hoping to distract himself for just a little while. Harry’s posted some obscure black and white photo that means nothing, and he’s reminded that so many of his mates are actually so annoying, but then he sees something that makes him feel faint.

A photo of Nick with the same girl Louis had been on a date with just last night, captioned _“Bit of brunch with Sam Xx_ ”and Louis feels like his life might be ending. He wishes that Nick had thought to warn him of this, even just so Louis wouldn’t be sat around waiting for him. It would have softened the blow a bit, still freak him out but at least he wouldn’t have to be blindsided by it.

He feels light-headed and nauseated and suddenly overcome with the fear that she’ll say something, even though she told him that she wouldn’t. This girl has no obligation to keep her promise or keep his secret and she’s going to spill. She’ll mention to Nick that they went out last night and that’s it – their bubble will infiltrated and popped and broken beyond repair; Louis will be left alone again, without the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

The room is spinning all around him and he feels the desperate need to lie down, but he knows that he can’t lose focus for a even moment. He needs to be completely in control with his mind straight when Nick gets back so he can start on damage control as quickly as possible.

Everything’s gotten all fucked up and it’s all his fault, and it’s what he deserves.

He tries for sending Nick a text – a sleepy selfie in one of Nick’s old t-shirts, accompanied by the message _come back soon x._ It hints at the pretense that everything is all right, and he wishes that it were actually true. Louis misses when he had nothing to hide, no guilt to suppress, and he knows that this is no way to start a relationship.

Nick sends back _on my way xxxxxxxxx_ almost immediately, and Louis knows that he’s lying, but it brings a smile to his face anyway. Nick has a habit of saying he’s on his way when he’s not really leaving for another 10 or 15 minutes, so Louis knows he’ll be waiting a while, but at least he has an idea of it.

*

“Honey, I’m home.” Nick calls as he walks through the door, and Louis rolls his eyes but sits up and makes grabby hands anyway. “Miss me?”

“I did.” Louis says, leaning up to meet Nick’s lips in a kiss. Then another, and another, and another. Until he’s breathless and satisfied that he can speak. “You know I did. I was promised an orgasm.”

“You know, Lou,” Nick says, tilting his head with a grin. “You could have done that on your own.”

“My hand. My own hand.” Louis says, incredulously, plucking on all of Nick’s nerves and sensitivities that Louis knows that he has. “What is the point of having a boyfriend if I have to use my own hand?”

“I’m old. I have arthritis.” Nick sighs, flopping over the back of the couch like a child. “Can’t give too many hand jobs. You’ve got nice, young, youthful hands. No arthritis.”

“You haven’t got arthritis, you prick.” Louis says, because as much as he likes to mock Nick for being ancient, he’s not actually thatold. And he’s not going to put up with it when it’s between getting off and not. “You’re not that old.”

“I’m not?” Nick teases, as he likes. “Wish you’d tell me that more often.”

“I’ll tell you every day if you get me off.”

Nick makes a face as if he’s considering it, and Louis thinks for a moment that he might actually say no. The thought alone makes him furious. When Nick crawls over Louis’ body, though, supporting himself on his elbows and breathing hot over Louis’ lips – the thought leaves his mind completely.

“Hiya.” Nick giggles, pressing a kiss to Louis’ cheek.

“Hey there.” Louis says, pressing a kiss to Nick’s lips because he deserves it. He’s been waiting all day. “Did you miss me?”

“Always do, darling.” Nick replies, and the warmth rises in Louis’ belly when Nick rubs their noses together. When Nick worms his hand into Louis’ boxers, his entire body is set aflame. Nick knows him so well, Nick knows just what he always needs, knows just how to take care of him.

“This what you wanted?” Nick asks, his face so close that Louis’ eyes have to cross. All he can do is groan and nod. “I’m happy to be of service.”

Louis can’t believe it, even more now than ever, that he ever went out with anyone else. He can’t believe that there was anything before this, because as much as he loved being with Eleanor, this is the best thing he’s ever had. He can’t believe that he went out with Sam last night, when this is what he had waiting for him.

He won’t let it happen again. He won’t screw this up.

*

“You know Daisy, right?” Harry asks, a mischievous look on his face that says he’s up to something, and Louis really ought to shut him down right now. For some reason, he can’t. “Daisy Lowe.”

“No, not really.” Louis says, suspicious of what Harry’s getting at. “I’ve never met her, I mean.”

“I think you two should go out.” Harry says, and it’s so predictable that it has Louis shaking his head before Harry’s even finished his sentence. “You can’t say no.”

“I can say no.” Louis scoffs, because since when is he not in control of his life? Besides, like, always, whenever Harry is involved. “I told you I don’t want to date anyone right now, so I’m gonna say no.”

“There’s a slight problem with that.” Harry says, and Louis’ head is absolutely spinning with annoyance bordering on aggravation bordering on full-blown anger. He can’t believe he let Harry even talk him into that first date, and he doesn’t want to go through it again. Things have been going so well with Nick and he feels like it will just make everything regress if he does this – if he goes out with another friend of Nick’s. “I already made the plan with her, so she’ll be expecting you. Tonight.”

“Tonight.” Louis repeats, disbelieving that this is his actual life. He can’t take it – he wants a new one. Harry is going to ruin this one beyond repair one of these days, probably sooner rather than later. “You made me a date for tonight even though you knew I wouldn’t want to go.”

“I knew you’d cop out if I gave you too much time.” Harry says. “This was the only way.”

“I won’t show up.” Louis says, even though he knows it’s not true. He’s much too polite to stand someone up, even if it’s a date he doesn’t want. Even if he’d rather be anywhere else but on that date. “You know that, don’t you? I won’t go.”

“It’ll be good for you.” Harry says, and Louis hates that – he wants to wring Harry’s stupid neck for thinking that he’s the one who knows what’s best for Louis. That Louis is so naïve that he has no idea what’s best for him. He knows exactly what’s best for him because it’s what he has. What’s best for him is Nick and the privacy that Harry is so desperate to deprive him of. “This is the last time.”

For some reason, Louis is compelled to believe him. He’s compelled to believe that Harry really does have his best interests at heart, and if Louis doesn’t like this date, it really will be the last one. He may be compelled to believe it because he wants to, because he knows Harry, and he knows that Harry won’t give this up. “Call her and cancel, yeah?” Louis says. “I’m not going.”

*

He ends up at the restaurant anyway, feeling completely out of place sat across from one of the most beautiful women he’s ever met. People are staring at her like they recognize her, which they probably do, and sending confused glances in his direction. It makes him uneasy, because the chances that this will actually get out are much greater than the last time. He wants to bolt, get out of here as soon as possible and hide, but it’s too late for that.

“I was a bit surprised when Harry came to me with the idea for this date.” Daisy says, sipping delicately at her drink then toying with the straw. “I sort of figured you were going out with Grimmy.”

Louis’ heart might stop, he’s not really sure, but he knows that he’s not breathing. He doesn’t know how she knows or if she even _really_ knows anything, but that uneasiness has multiplied and he’s horrified. “I’m not.”

“I stumbled upon some pictures on his phone of you two kissing.” She says, and he knew that Daisy and Nick were close, but he supposes he didn’t know how close. He didn’t know that they were close to the point that they look through each other’s camera roll. He’s not even mad at Nick for not being more careful, because he can’t deprive Nick of that, too. He’s glad that Nick has pictures of them on his phone, for him to look at when they’re apart. More than anything, he’s mad at himself for making Nick keep this a secret. “I just assumed. Sorry.”

“Could you not tell him about this, please?” He asks, this time not caring about seeming strange, because he figures she already knows enough. He never figured that the first person he tells would be someone he hardly knows, but it’s what he needs now. “No one knows that we’re together, and I’ve just been going on these dates to get Harry off my back and I just – I’m so stupid.”

“Yeah, you are.” She says. “I’m not going to say anything to him, because I get that you want to keep this under wraps for a bit, but he’ll probably find out on his own.”

She points to her right and sat there, a few tables down from him, are some poorly disguised paps taking video of them. His heart really does stop, then – this can’t be happening. “I’m gonna go.” Louis says, quickly standing up and pulling his wallet out of drop some cash on the table. “I’ve got to go talk to Nick, I’m sorry.”

*

He’s in a panic through the entire drive to Nick’s flat. He doesn’t know who else was in that restaurant, if there will be photos up online already, if Nick’s seen them already.

His mind is racing, trying to think of a plan, think of how to tell Nick what he did.

He’s not expecting such a quick response when he bangs on the door, and he’s certainly not expecting the sight in front of him. Nick’s eyes are tired, not sleepy but exhausted, and Louis wants to drag him into his arms. He figures that Nick has seen the photos, then. So maybe not the right time for hugging.

“Where were you, then?” Nick asks, tone bordering on annoyed but not quite. “I mean, I know where you were. Just want to hear you say it, don’t I?”

“You saw the pictures.” Louis guesses.

Nick rolls his eyes, then his face looks angry. The exhaustion in his eyes switches to rage and Louis doesn’t know what he’s done, really, to make Nick even madder with just one sentence. “I didn’t see any pictures.” Nick scoffs. “You told me you had band rehearsal tonight, but then Harry stopped by. He mentioned you were on a date with Daisy?”

“I can explain –” Louis starts, but he’s immediately cut off with both of Nick’s hand in the air and the most infuriated scoff that Louis has ever heard from anyone.

“I’ve been great about all of this, all this time. I’m fine with the fact that you have to keep our relationship a secret for a while, because I understand how shit the spotlight is. I’m fine with you being gone more often than you’re here, but –” Nick pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “But to find out that you’re going out with other people behind my back really hurts, especially when the other people are my mates.”

“I can explain.” Louis whines, rather pathetically. He didn’t expect it to go this way at all – he expected a bit of time to get Nick prepared before it all came out. And now he’s trapped. “Harry was setting me up on all these dates and all I could do without telling him about us was just –”

“Don’t.” Nick grits through his teeth. “This is on you. You can’t blame this all on Harry.”

Louis feels defenseless. He knows, somewhere deep down, that this is all his fault. He didn’t try hard enough, he didn’t fight for this enough. He doesn’t know how to stick up for himself and it’s all blown up in his face. “What was I supposed to do?”

“You could have done something. You didn’t have to go.” Nick sighs. That exhaustion is back and Louis feels awful – this is all so terrible and he can’t believe he’s mucked this all up so badly. “I can’t believe I was really going to ask you to move in with me.”

And – that’s news. He’s sure it’s much too early for them to be moving in together, but thinking about it now, he wants it. He wants to wake up next to Nick every morning and come home to Nick every night, but now he’s wrecked it completely. “I’m so sorry.” Louis sighs. “How do I fix it?”

“I don’t know if you can.” Nick replies, defeated. “I think you should go.”

“Nick, please.” Louis tries. Begs, even. “Let me explain, please.”

“Bye, Louis.” And then he’s gone. The door is shut and Louis’ all alone to decide where he can possibly go from here.

*

His house is too empty, too big and depressingly quiet without the pitter patter of doggy footsteps since Eleanor moved out. He hates being here right now. He used to love this house – used to love coming home to Eleanor after a too-long tour and he loves spending nights here when he knows he’s going to Nick’s in the morning. It’s different now, because he has to stay here. He’s not going to Nick’s in the morning because he’s not wanted there and suddenly he feels suffocated, closed in though the house is much too big for just one.

It’s no fault of anyone other than himself, making this all so much more painful. He could have avoided this in a million different ways, but he didn’t – he didn’t fight hard enough to keep his relationship with Nick afloat and he couldn’t take responsibility for himself. Now he’s alone just as quickly as he wasn’t.

Every fiber of his being longs to blame Harry for this, wants to blame Harry’s persistence and high-pitched whine for the fact that Louis’ world is falling apart around him. He can’t bring himself to do it, though. He can’t bring himself to blame anyone but himself, which he supposes is a good thing.

He needs to see Nick, but if he can’t have that, he needs a friend. He needs to get all of this off his chest, once and for all, and stop hiding.

He knows that he has to tell Harry first, since he’s the one closest to all of this, but he doesn’t know that he can face him right now. This is his fault, even if in an indirect sort of way. He dials his number instead.

“How’d the date go?” Harry asks when he answers, bright in a way that unsettling considering the way that Louis feels.

“I’ve been going out with Nick.” Louis says straight away, forgoing the small talk and avoidance altogether. “We’re properly together.”

“Nick Grimshaw?” Harry asks, sounding disbelieving, his voice bordering on a scoff. Louis wants to be offended but he can’t be. “I thought you two couldn’t stand each other. How long?”

 _I thought you two couldn’t stand each other_. His mind goes back to months ago, before he properly knew Nick, when he was so quick to judge everything about who he was without even knowing. He couldn’t stand him, and looking back on it, he feels silly – foolish, even.

“I thought so, too.” Louis says. He was sure of very few things in his life and one of those few things was that he couldn’t fucking stand Nick Grimshaw. He hates being wrong. “It’s been a little while, since just after Zayn left.”

He remembers that night vividly, he always will, a night like no other. Home alone after tour, all of the sadness and betrayal piling up, a mix of the loss of a 4-year relationship and the loss of a 5-year friendship. All he needed was a friend, a shoulder to cry on, someone to ease the pain – but the only person he knew in London at the time was Nick. And he was a desperate man.

 _Can I just come in?_ he’d asked, feeling vulnerable and outrageous, because that’s not who he is. He doesn’t let his guard down. _Please don’t make a big deal out of this._

“So, you’re going out with Nick.” Harry says, that deep and slow drawl that normally makes Louis want to crawl out of his skin, because he can never just get to the point. “Nick Grimshaw. You and Nick.”

“You’re observant.” Louis sighs, because it’s just like Harry to take forever to piece everything together and drag this shit out for ages. “Well, we were together. Not so much anymore.”

“You’re not.” Harry comments, ever redundant.

Louis fights himself, yet again, not to blame this all on Harry. It’s his own stupid fucking fault but it all seems to fall back on Harry, in his mind. “You fucked it up.” Louis says. “I was supposed to have band rehearsal tonight but you blew my fucking cover.”

“You can’t honestly be putting this on me.” Harry scoffs. “Really?”

“You just wouldn’t stop pushing it.” Louis seethes, because really, Harry at least deserves _part_ of the blame for this. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone when I told you that I don’t want to date, and then you blew my fucking cover.”

“I wouldn’t have blown your cover if you had bothered to tell me you were dating him.” Harry says, and he sounds defeated, with a hint of offended. Louis tries to think about how he would feel if Harry were seeing someone and didn’t bother to tell him, and he may just understand the offense and the frustration. “I didn’t make you cheat on your boyfriend, but I’ll make you fix it.”

The word _cheat_ never even ran through his mind, and he doesn’t think that’s what it was. Going on a couple dates that he didn’t even want to be on certainly can’t be considered cheating, not even emotional cheating. And the thought of Harry making him do anything should make him laugh, because it’s funny, but really Harry making him do things is what got him into this all in the first place.

“I didn’t cheat on Nick.” Louis says. “But I’ll get him back, okay? I will.”

*

He’s never had to win anyone back before, is the problem. He’s never had a relationship end before he felt it truly ran its course, so this is brand new territory for him. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

“I need you to help me get him back.” Louis says, before Liam has even swung the door completely open. “You’re the only one who knows how to do it.”

“Um. Come in.” Liam says, a familiar furrow in his brow. “Get who back?”

“I’ve been going out with Nick Grimshaw.” Louis says, and he feels bad. Out of everyone he knows, Liam would have probably been the easiest to tell about this from the get-go. The most understanding, the least questions, but he’s only just now telling him when he needs his help. “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you everything later, but I really need your help right now.”

“Louis Tomlinson needs my help.” Liam says, a grin spreading wide across his face. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What do I do? How did you get Danielle and Sophia back?” Louis asks, begging almost, because he needs this. If he doesn’t get Nick back soon, he’s going to completely fall apart. “Do I do a grand gesture? Would that be good?”

Liam laughs, an outrageous cackle, and Louis wants to be offended but he would probably do the same if their situations were reversed. “You go to him, you apologize for whatever you did, and you ask for him back.” Liam says, and Louis’ sure that it can’t possibly be that easy. “No one really likes grand gestures.”

“So, ‘Hey Nick, sorry I was a twat, please take me back’ is going to work? You’re full of shit.” Louis says.

“I’m not, I swear.” Liam says. “You have to be more specific and act like you actually mean it, but that’s how you do it. Grand gestures are too dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic.” Louis counters. “Nick is dramatic, too. We’re a dramatic pair.”

“Do what you want, just don’t blame me if you embarrass yourself for nothing.” Liam says. “And you’ll tell me the whole story later.”

“I will.” Louis promises. “Thanks, mate.”

*

He’s spent way too long thinking of what to say, what he could possibly say to make this all go away, and he’s coming up blank. He’s done one of the worst things he’s ever done, and he did it to Nick, which will forever be his greatest regret.

He prays that waiting for morning wasn’t a massive mistake.

The door is barely open before Louis is pushing himself inside Nick’s flat, not giving Nick the chance to slam the door is his face. “I have some things to say to you, okay?”

“I don’t want to hear it, Lou.” Nick says, and when Louis finally really focuses on Nick’s face, it breaks his heart. Nick looks exhausted, more exhausted than Louis has ever seen him. He’s normally so bright and cheery, even in the earliest hours of the morning, and this is unbelievably and unsettlingly unfamiliar.

“I fucked up, okay? I know that. I was scared. I’m scared.” Louis says, and he can feel himself starting to ramble, and he can’t seem to stop himself. “I was too scared to tell anyone about us because I couldn’t bear to lose you if shit went bad and I’m so sorry, Nick, and I can’t lose you. I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”

“I’m just supposed to forgive you, then?” Nick says, running his hands through his limp day-old quiff. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I would.” Louis says, because if he’s being honest, if this were reversed he’d probably never speak to Nick again. But it’s not, and he’s so scared that he’ll do anything. “But I think I’m properly falling in love with you, and I need you. Please.”

“Love, huh?” Nick grins, and Louis never imagined it would be so easy. “Need?”

“You could move into my house.” Louis says, and he wasn’t even really considering it before he said it out loud. It’s so appealing to him suddenly. “I’ve got a nice big back yard for Pig to run around, and a nice big bed for you and me.”

“I suppose I could forgive you. For Pig.” Nick says, moving closer to Louis and slipping a hand around to his lower back, a kiss to his forehead. “You absolute shit.”

“For Pig.” Louis echoes, and it’s stupid, and it means absolutely nothing even when it means everything, and he swears he’ll never screw up again.


End file.
